


telephone line

by stoprobbers



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Jancy Fic Week, Letters, Light Angst, Post-Season/Series 03, Reunions, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27361753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stoprobbers/pseuds/stoprobbers
Summary: turns out sharing the phone is a bitch.
Relationships: Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	telephone line

**Author's Note:**

> jancy week 2020 day 3: Reunion and/or ”Dor”
> 
> dor— the heartbreak and sense of longing you feel because you’re separated from your love

Jonathan,

I wrote “Dear Jonathan” like four times and threw out each piece of paper after. That doesn’t feel right, does it? Too formal. Something I’d send my grandmother. You’re not my grandmother.

You’re not here, either. You’re somewhere on the road right now and I’m sitting in my room, feeling you get farther and farther away. I don’t even know where to send this. I think you told me last night, or maybe before that, I don’t even remember. I also don’t remember the numbers or the street name or anything else, just the drop in my stomach when I realized just how far that is and how much Mom would _totally_ notice if I took the car in the middle of the night, because it would be too long to go there and back.

Is it ok to say I hate your mom? Because I think I do. At least, right now. I don’t understand… and I know, I know we’ve talked about this, I know you don’t understand either, but I still don’t. I don’t know how she can’t see how much this hurts you, how much it hurts me. How she could still

I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I don’t know how to say what I feel right now. How my stomach hurts and my chest hurts and the room feels cold and how I can’t stop crying and I don’t want you to feel bad because it’s not your fault but Jonathan I miss you, you’ve just left and I already miss you so much.

You said it’d be ok. I’m trying to believe you.

I love you.

Nancy

_“You made it!”_

_“We did.” He swallows hard, leans his forehead against the wall next to the phone. There’s wallpaper in the hallway his mom hates and he’ll eventually have to strip. It smells wrong. “Not too bad of a drive.”_

_“But long.” Her voice is thick._

_“Yeah.” His is too. “Not too bad. Passed a bunch of cool looking camping sites. If you come visit when it’s warm, we could get away from everyone. Pitch a tent.”_

_“Is that what they call it out there?”_

_He snickers. “I wouldn’t know, but I also wouldn’t mind. I’m gonna hate waking up without you.”_

_“God, me too. I keep trying to pretend tomorrow morning won’t come.”_

_“I know,” He takes a shaky breath, but she beats him to his next declaration._

_“I miss you.”_

_“God, I miss you too.” It comes out a rush of air. “Nance—”_

_“JONATHAN IT’S MY TURN!”_

_Will’s shriek is ice water down his back. He jumps, straightens, glares down the hall. Nancy chuckles, hollow, in his ear._

_“Jesus. Even_ I _heard that.”_

 _“It’s been like two minutes. Five,_ maybe _.”_

_“So why’s he shouting?”_

_“I don’t know.” There’s a rattle and a clang, Will pulling out kitchen chairs too loud to make a point. A cabinet door slams next. He sighs, knowing this is a losing battle. When Will wants to be a brat he can with the best of them. “I guess I should go.”_

_“Well, that’s not fair.”_

_“Yeah. I agree.” He sighs. “I’ll call you again tomorrow, ok? I love—”_

_“JONATHAN! I TOLD LUCAS I’D CALL AT EIGHT ON THE DOT!!!”_

_“ONE MINUTE!” he yells back._

_“How romantic,” Nancy deadpans. “I love you, though. Talk to you tomorrow?”_

_“Yes. I love you too.”_

_He hangs up with a soft click and whirls on his brother._

_“What the fuck.”_

_“Whatever,” Will huffs and pushes him out of the way. “We’ve gotta take turns.”_

Nancy,

Do me a favor and don’t show this letter to police. We’re in this together, right? You’ll protect me?

Because I’m pretty sure I’m about to murder to my brother.

I don’t know _what_ his problem is. What he’s turned into. He mopes and he fights. He and El get along perfectly one second, and scream at each other the next. Kinda like you and Mike, actually, which I’ve definitely never envied. I can’t get three seconds by myself without one of the demanding a refereeing of whatever bullshit spat they’re in now. He’s such a fucking _whiner_ too, he’s never been like that before.

I tried to ask Mom if I was like this at his age because I swear I wasn’t, but she just rolled her eyes and told me I had my own issues and left it like that. Thanks, Mom.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you it’s that Will is a monster and won’t give me 10 seconds to myself on the phone. Any time I pick it up, I’m a phone hog. What if Lucas calls, or Dustin, or Mike? What if Mike wants to talk to him?

God forbid I talk to my girlfriend. It’s like we don’t even exist to them.

And I want to talk to you, Nance. I miss you all the time, at school, at home, at work. I hate this new job; it’s so stupid. I am tired of stupid work. For as awful as Tom and Bruce and the rest of the guys at the Post were, it was the first time I got paid to do something I loved and being back at a movie theater doesn’t exactly cut it anymore. Not after that. If only they hadn’t been assholes. If only they hadn’t gotten flayed.

I know you don’t think of it the same way, and I get it, but man, if I could shoot for a living again it’d be heaven. Things would be almost perfect.

Almost because… well, you know.

Seven months. Seven months to graduation. Seven months to independence. Seven months until I’m coming back and no one can stop me.

I love you,

Jonathan

_“I’m gonna fail this test.”_

_“You’re not going to fail the test, you have never failed a test in your life.”_

_“There’s a first time for everything.”_

_“Nance,” he sighs fondly, shakes his head. “You got this. I know you do.”_

_“I can’t focus. I wish you were here to help.”_

_“Jonathan ‘Human Flashcard’ Byers?”_

_“You joke, but you’re the best study buddy I’ve ever had.”_

_“Well my mission’s complete,” his words drip with sarcasm. “Now that I’ve reached best study buddy I don’t know where else go from there.”_

_“Don’t be offended! It’s a compliment.”_

_“What every boyfriend wants to hear.”_

_“You knew what you were doing and you had just the right incentive,” she says seriously. He grins to himself; there were rewards for both of them for right answers. His lips pucker slightly, involuntary, as he remembers. “You know, Steve once tried to get me to do strip flashcards.”_

_That brings him right back to the present, all memories pushed far away. “Why on earth would you tell me that?”_

_“It didn’t work.”_

_“It doesn’t matter if it worked,” he makes a face, “it’s still not something I want to picture.”_

_“So don’t picture it. It probably would have worked if you brought it up.”_

_That’s a tantalizing thought. He closes his eyes and pictures her in her bedroom, crosslegged on her floral comforter, inviting smile on her face._

_“Is that so? I never even thought of that. Maybe I should have given it a—”_

_“Jonathan?” his mother’s voice is so unexpected he actually jumps, barely manages not to shout. “Sweetheart, I told you I was expecting a call from Gary this evening, I can’t have you tying up the line.”_

_“I’m not, Mom, I told you I was calling Nancy—”_

_“It’s important, Jonathan, this is for work. Please. You’ve been on the phone long enough.”_

_There’s a click as she hangs up, no further argument to be had. He and Nancy sigh at the same time._

_“I’ll let you go,” she says, and the sadness in her voice makes his chest squeeze._

_“Nance—”_

_“I know, I know. I get it. Maybe we can find some time this weekend.”_

_“We will. If I have to lock them all out of the house, we will.”_

_“Mmhmm,” she doesn’t sound convinced and he doesn’t blame her. “Love you, Jonathan.”_

_“I love you too, Nance.”_

_There’s just a click as she hangs up; no goodbye._

What’s it like? What does your school look like? Are the hallways wide, or narrow? Are the lockers tan like they are here? Are the desks new or old, are the floor tiles cracked or shiny? Do we use the same books, take the same tests? Are the curriculums the same?

Do you have friends? I bet you do, lots of them. Or you could, if you tried. Are the girls interested in you? Do they flirt by your locker before class? I bet they do. I wonder if you notice.

Do you tell them about me? Is my picture hanging in your locker? Or am I just that girl from home, unspoken, unknown? A relic of your past kept from all these new people you know?

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t say things like that. I just… I don’t know anything about this new life of yours. I know about El and Will’s fights, I know about your mom’s new jobs, the carpet in your bedroom you hate, the way the house creaks all wrong, that you hate your job more than ever, but there’s more than that you just won’t say. I know you’re not in your room all the time. I know you go to the record store, I know must have some friends. Who are they, Jonathan? Why won’t you tell me?

What don’t you want me to know?

You haunt me. In the corners of my room, the hallway at school. Half the time I find myself walking to the darkroom at lunch just from habit, even though you won’t be inside.

Am I still in the shadows of your life? Or have you moved on?

I’m sorry I missed your call Saturday. Next time, call back.

Nancy

_Ring. Ring._

_“Jonathan?”_

_“I’m on the phone, Mom!”_

_Ring._

_“Sweetheart, come on, we’re gonna be late.”_

_“I’ll meet you there.”_

_“I told Linda we’d all get there are the same time.”_

_“It’s fine, I won’t be that far behind.”_

_Ring. Ring._

_“Jonathan, this isn’t about you being late, this about keeping the commitments we made.”_

_“_ You _made, you mean.”_

_Ring._

_“I swear to god, I don’t know what’s gotten into you. I told you about this days ago, and you agreed.”_

_“Chill out, Mom. I’ll be right behind you. I need to make this call.”_

_Ring._

_“Jonathan Byers, this is_ not _an argument—”_

Hello. You’ve reached the Wheeler residence. Please leave your name and number after the tone and we’ll get back to you.

_He slams the phone down, spins to face her._

_“_ Fine _. Whatever. Let’s get this over with.”_

_He feels her eyes on him, shocked and angered, as he storms off._

Nancy,

How could you say that?? How could you _think_ that????

You’re more than a shadow in my life, you’re a damn talisman. I roll over in the morning and reach for your waist. I close my locker and look up expecting you to be there. Hell, I even write notes to pass you in class before I remember you’re not next to me anymore.

Of course your photo is in my locker. Of course it is, how could you ask me that?

I know this is hard. It’s hard for me too, I don’t even know how to say how much. But don’t…. don’t think what you’re thinking. It’s not true. None of it is true.

The halls here are wide, the lockers are brown and ugly, and I don’t know anything about the floors because who the fuck pays attention to the floors of their high school? Not me, that’s for sure.

I have some friends, I guess. Some guys who talk to me. Paul, in my photography class, seems cool, but I don’t know. I go to school, I go to work, I go home, I think about you, and I go to sleep. I couldn’t tell you who the girls in this school are if I tried. I don’t care about them, I care about _you_.

I… I had a dream last night. We were back in the woods, years ago now. I was calling your name, following your voice, and I found that tree again. And your hand came out, just like it did, and I grabbed and I pulled and pulled and pulled but it didn’t work. You didn’t come out, you got pulled back in. And I went after you. I climbed through that tunnel, sticky and tight, into a world where ash fell from the sky. And I called for you, over and over, until you called back.

We didn’t make it out. But I found you and I held you and we were together, even though we were stuck.

It wasn’t a good dream but it wasn’t a nightmare either, because I was with you. All I need is you.

You understand that, right? That it’s not me and you, it’s us? For me, at least, I know it’s us. Is it still us for you too?

We’ve shared trauma before. We can do it again. I know you’re cut open and bleeding right now because I am too, but the wound will heal. We’ll just have more matching scars.

I leave you messages, Nance. You can call me back, too.

Please. I love you.

Jonathan

_“Nancy, sweetheart, can you sit down please?”_

_She has a headache. She’s had one for weeks now, it feels like. Her feet drag on the way to the recliner her dad usually lays in. He’s not there now. He’s sitting on the sofa next to her mother. Both of them have their hands folded in their laps._

_“Nancy,” her father says, serious and solemn. “We need to talk about this.”_

_He unclasps his hands to pick up a sheaf of papers from the coffee table and hold them out to her. She takes them, glances down, and rolls her eyes._

_“This is a phone bill.”_

_“That’s nearly twice as much as it was last month,” her father intones, “which was nearly twice as much as the month before.”_

_“So?”_

_“So these long distance charges aren’t coming from me, or your mother.”_

_“Yeah, well talk to Mike about them, he’s got two people out of state versus my one.” She tosses the papers back on the table._

_“Nancy, listen to your father,” her mother admonishes, but she’s pretty sure she can hear a note of sympathy in her voice._

_“This is not a discussion about your brother. We will talk to Michael about himself separately.” Her father’s voice is stern and she fights with all her might not to roll her eyes. That’ll just get her grounded. “But it is also past time for you to learn about financial responsibility, especially after what happened with your internship this summer.”_

_Her mother visibly bristles at that but doesn’t say a word, and something inside Nancy’s stomach burns._

_“We’ll start with some extra chores, but if this bill keeps going up then we’ll talk about whether it’s time for you to get another job. And we’re also going to set up a phone schedule.”_

_“This is_ bullshit _!” she cries, unable to stop herself. “That bill’s not even from me! I’m lucky if I get to talk to Jonathan once a week because Mike is always on the damn line—”_

_“Nancy! Language.”  
_

_“This_ isn’t fair! _” the tears well in her eyes and she’s powerless to hold them at bay. “You’re punishing me for something that isn’t my fault—"_

_“This isn’t a punishment, Nancy,” her mother tries but it doesn’t stop her._

_“—and making me take responsibility for what my stupid_ brother _is doing! In the meantime none of you care about the fact that I can’t even talk to my boyfriend!”_

_“Nancy, this is all part of being an adult.” Her father’s voice is so calm and steady it makes her want to punch him in the face. “If you can’t handle this responsibility now, how will you handle college?”_

_“Unbelievable,” she breathes, rising from the recliner. “Fucking_ unbelievable _.”_

_Her father’s shouts of language follow her as she runs up the stairs, but she doesn’t care. Slams the door as hard and loud as she can._

_She’s shaking with anger and frustration, back to the door as she perches on her bed. She’s not surprised when her it opens a moment later._

_“Nance…” her mother’s voice is soft and kind, but it’s not soothing._

_She doesn’t turn around. “You know this is bullshit, right?”_

_“It’s not, Nancy—”_

_“It_ is _,” she whirls. “Jonathan and I are_ falling apart _over this, because Mike hogs the phone all day and all night. And now_ I _have to be punished for it?”_

_“I know this is hard for you two,” her mother takes a seat next to her, mattress dipping, and places a hand on her shoulder. “And I promise I will talk to your brother. But a few extra chores never hurt, Nancy, and your father isn’t wrong about learning financial responsibility.”_

_“It’s not just the chores, mom—”_

_Her voice is steady but firm when she interrupts. “I talked him out of a much stricter punishment, too.”_

_Nancy falls silent. She has some idea of what that may have been._

_“I know it’s hard,” her mother repeats, rising, “but you’re a strong young woman, and I know you can make it through this.”_

_She pauses in the doorway. “Dinner will be ready soon, so don’t spend all night up here. And you can still have the car next weekend.”_

Nancy,

I haven’t gotten anything back after the last letter I sent you. Please tell me it doesn’t mean what I think it means.

Mike answered when I called Tuesday. He said you’re both in trouble for the phone bill which, I’m sorry. I know it’s been hard to actually talk so it takes a lot more calls, and I know that costs money. I know, because Mom is mad at me for it, too.

I think it’s kind of bullshit that so much is falling on you for this, considering how many hours Mike and Will and El spend on the phone. I said that to my mom, too. I’m guessing it worked about as well for you as it did for me.

But you won’t return my calls and you’re not returning my letters, or if you are they’re not getting delivered and… and…

Nance…

It hurts, every day, being away from you. It burns, it stings, it aches. All the time I think of things I wish I could tell you, wish I could confide in you. I thought that’s what these letters would do, since it’s such a bitch getting our siblings off the phone. But now it’s just more pleading, more begging you to tell me you still care, you’re still in this as much as I am.

Cuz I am, Nance. There’s no other girls. There’s no other nothing. There’s just you.

Please. Call me. Send a letter. Hell, I’ll take smoke signals at this point. Please, Nancy.  
  
Jonathan

_Jonathan stares into his locker, a dark brown abyss with a single black and white photo on the door. It’s his favorite photo of her, her eyes cast down and a shy smile on her face, taken a moment after he told her loved her. One of the first times he told her that, before it was as easy as breathing._

_It makes his chest ache in a dull way now. He misses her smile, he misses her scent, he misses the sound of her voice. He misses_ her _._

_The bell rings shrill, but he ignores it, lets his vision double and then come back together before he takes the book out of his bag and slides it in along the others. It’s only lunch, plenty of time and nothing to do, though he thinks Paul might be looking for him. He likes Paul, likes having someone to talk photography with, but he finds he has to catch himself mid-sentence as he turns to explain a term to Nancy or let her in on the joke._

_Does she still feel him at her elbow around the lunch table?_

_He closes his locker with a sigh and turns on his heel, ready to head to the dark room. He’s got a couple rolls of film from the last days before leaving Hawkins left to develop and this is probably the last time he’ll have the room to himself with midterms looming. The little black canisters make his heart ache to look at but he hopes the developed film will help soothe things._

_At least it’s Friday._

_“Hey, Jonathan!” a voice rings out from down the hall. The approaching figure looks like Paul and he hopes the drop of his shoulders isn’t visible. So much for privacy._

_“Hey,” he says, raising his hand in greeting, lips parted to say more and then—_

_“Jonathan?”_

_He’s sure he’s hearing things. He has to be. But in front of him Paul has stopped, a puzzled look on his face. Students keep moving around him, on their way to the cafeteria or out to the parking lot for lunch, but his vision has tunneled to a pinpoint._

_“Jonathan,” the voice says again, no longer a question. He swears he can hear a smile._

_It takes him a moment to regain control of his body, and when he does he turns slowly. Wanting to draw this out, wanting to believe for just a moment longer that what is surely not possible is actually happening._

_And there she is. A few feet away, looking slightly lost in the middle of an unfamiliar high school hallway, but it’s her. Same brown hair, same loose perm, huge blue eyes, same prim sweater. If she opened her hands he’d see the same scar across her palm._

_“Wha—” is all that makes it out of his mouth before she is suddenly there, slamming into him with all the force of a football tackle. He stumbles, knocked back a few steps, but he catches her, just like he always has._

_He can feel her nails digging into his back through his jacket and his sweater as she clings to him, and the bite has never felt so good._

_Thank god his body knows what to do because his brain has shorted out completely, unable to form a thought beside her name, just_ Nancy, Nancy, Nancy, _over and over again as he buries his face in her hair._

_“Surprise,” she says into his shoulder and he laughs, truly laughs at that, a sound from deep in his belly he hasn’t made since he left Indiana._

_“What the fuck,” he says into her hair and pulls back just enough so she can look up at him. Her eyes are shining and she’s smiling has wide as he’s ever seen. “What are you_ doing _here?”_

_“Mom let me take the car for the weekend. It’s been… well, you know. No one can kick us off the phone if I’m here, right?”_

_She doesn’t let him answer; lifts up on her toes and catches his lips before he can reply. The taste of her is like a shock to the system and before he knows it, he’s leaning her back, bending her over, drinking in everything he’s missed._

_Somewhere on the edges of his attention he hears someone whistle, loudly. He kisses her deeper. It’s only when her fingers dig into his shoulders, a request for air, he lets them part._

_Another whistle rings out. She winks at him._

_“If anyone asks, I’m a prospective student,” she says and pulls his face down to hers again._

**Author's Note:**

> i said i'd never write another letter fic and here i am. may i never learn my lessons, ever, i suppose.


End file.
